


The Words That You Needed

by ohmyallstars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Soldiers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyallstars/pseuds/ohmyallstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s hard enough when there is a war going on, but when your loved ones are sent into the line of duty there is nothing you can do but wait.You wait to hear that they’re okay, or you wait to hear that they aren’t. Liam has been gone for months and Harry is just trying to get by without him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Words That You Needed

The thin strap of his messenger bag slid from his shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud. Harry sighed when the sound echoed around the apartment, and tried to pretend that it didn’t bother him that he was coming home to face a night alone yet again. Sometimes when he unlocked the door he still expected to hear Liam’s warm voice, welcoming him home and his cute smile as he popped his head out of their tiny study that Liam used as an office.

He made his way the fridge, knowing that it was almost empty before he’d even opened the door, but he needed to check anyway. The two beers that sat in the door seemed like a heavy reminder that he was alone and he closed the door with a sigh. Their tradition had always seemed cute at the beginning, but then again Liam had only been gone for only weeks at a time, two months at the most. It was nearing eight months now, and the tradition seemed to mock him, constantly reminding him that he was still waiting.

The television droned on and Harry stared at it emptily, pretending he was interested but not really registering any information. His mind was consumed memories, and emotions. He knew it wasn’t possible, but he would have sworn that the apartment in his mind was brighter, and warmer. It wasn’t the empty, grey one that he was sitting in now.

With a sigh of defeat, he flicked of the TV and threw the remote back down on the couch. He did the dished from his dinner and then walked through the apartment, as if looking for something but not finding it. A part of him was hoping that he’d find Liam in the study, buried under a pile of research, and a smile still on his face as he said ‘Go to bed love, I’m almost finished with this paper and then I’ll be right in.’

But he never was.

Sometimes Harry found himself wondering why his whole body ached and why no matter how long he slept, he felt permanently tired, as if he were sick or broken. He’d decided it was his body’s silent protest at the loss of Liam’s presence, and he tried to feel like he had the better end of the deal from his place in their comfy apartment instead of sleeping in a room with thirty men who haven’t showered and being shot at in the line of duty.

But he never did.

A little more than a week later he got the call he’d been waiting months to get; the troops were in a safe place and they were allowed fifteen minutes of video chat time with their loved ones. When Liam had first told him about the video chat, Harry had told him he should give it to Karen and Ruth; they were after all Liam’s family. They however had told Harry that he should take it, and he’d accepted it guiltily. He felt none of that guilt now when he thought about seeing Liam’s face for the first time in what felt like an eternity, and at work that day he had been barely able to concentrate on anything but Liam, so his boss had sent him home early.

He glanced at the clock for the thousandth time that night and groaned when he saw that it had been only a minute since he’d checked it last. All his attempts to pass the time had failed so now he sat in front of the computer, toying with his freshly ironed shirt and trying to tame his ridiculous curls.

The sound of the video call rang out into the apartment and every note pulled at Harry’s heart strings. He accepted to call and then Liam’s face was suddenly there.

They sat in silence for a moment, too overwhelmed to do anything but gape at the other and then Liam gathered his wits and smiled brightly.

‘Hey, Beautiful.’ He gushed eagerly, ‘I’ve missed you so much you have no idea. Nobody laughs at my bad jokes here, like you do.’

‘That’s because they aren’t funny.’ Harry managed to choke in reply. He could hear some of the other men in the background laugh, and agree with him but he ignored them, only focusing on the brilliant face in front of him. He felt so happy and whole, and Liam’s voice satisfied a hunger that had been gnawing at him from the day he’d left. There was so many things that he wanted to tell him, so many things that he needed to say but they all jumbled together and he found that he could only manage to say, ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too Haz, you have no idea how much.’ Liam’s voice became serious and Harry noticed a tear slide down his cheek. His body ached from the effort it took not to reach out and try to wipe it away, and he felt his own eyes start to well with tears. Liam continued, his voice catching in his throat as he spoke, ‘Every day I miss you more and more, and I can’t wait to see you.’

Harry noticed just how tired the other man looked, and he thought to himself that he probably looked the same. Their time apart hadn’t been kind to either of them but for the first time in many months he felt like they would make it. There were only four months left of their year apart and then Liam would be back by his side.

‘I have some news, but you have to promise me that you won’t start crying!’ Liam told him, his smile reaching his eyes again. Harry got lost for a moment, loving the way Liam’s cheeks went all the way up when he smiled, but he quickly regained focus. He thought about what Liam had said and he was filled with doubt. It must have shown on his face because Liam laughed and said, ‘You’ll love it, I swear.’

‘If you say so, and I’m not stupid enough to promise anything like that. What’s the news?’ Harry demanded. Liam laughed and told him and for a deafening moment, Harry’s heart stopped beating. He made Liam repeat it several more times until it finally sunk in and then he made him said it again.

‘For God’s sake Harry, I’m not saying it again.’ He chuckled, his face practically glowing as he pretended that he himself didn’t love the sound of it as much as Harry did. ‘Fine, I’m coming home baby. We’re packing up as I speak and we’ll be home by the end of August.’

‘That’s in three weeks!’ Harry realised, his heart soaring. He could survive three more weeks, no problem. They both could.

‘You don’t have to worry about me anymore, and I’ll try to stop worrying about you.’ Liam promised with his eyes wet with tears. Again, Harry felt that whole feeling. He knew that whatever he’d felt in the past, whatever pain and anguish, was nothing to the happiness that he felt in that moment. He had Liam, a man who loved him more than his own life. ; A man who was coming home.

They spoke for a couple more minutes but then Liam turned around at the sound of his name. With a grim nod he turned back to Harry and he knew that their time together was over and that Liam had to leave.

‘I know what you’re like Harry and I need you to remember that I love you so fucking much and nothing – nothing is going to stop me from coming home to you, you hear me?’

‘Yes.’ Harry answered feebly, reminding himself to laugh over Liam’s use of the curse word later. When he’d met the other man, it was rare for him to even use ‘crap’ or ‘bloody’. He felt himself come close to breaking as the seconds ticked by. ‘I love you Liam. I’m doing my best to be okay without you.’

‘Don’t get too used to it, love. I have to go now; the other guys want to give their ladies the good news. Make sure you save me that cold one, Haz. I’m coming home.’ The beautiful man smiled and blew a childish kiss before the feed cut out and Harry was left staring at his bright computer. He didn’t know how long he sat there, mourning the loss of his lover’s face but then everything started to sink in.

Liam was coming home.

My Liam, he thought to himself, my fiancé. He’s coming back to me.

The ring that had sat so heavily on his finger all these months alone was suddenly a happy reminder; a beacon of what was to come. With a chuckle he remembered Liam’s abrupt proposal. He’d planned a romantic night at a fancy restaurant and then their good friend Louis was going to take them out on his sailing boat where Liam had planned to propose under the stars but it had all fallen apart when Liam got food poisoning and they’d ended up spending the weekend in the apartment as Harry tried his best to make Liam comfortable.

It had been the middle of the night and a fever had taken Liam. After a day of caring for his boyfriend, and smoothing back his hair as he vomited, Harry was exhausted and irritable. He tried his best not to let it show, knowing it would only upset Liam, but when the other man had thrown up on the bed for the umpteenth time he couldn’t hold back the sigh of annoyance. Liam had sobbed and blurted out ‘marry me’ and Harry had nodded his head and tried to soothe him, thinking the fever had made him delirious. When Liam reached over and pulled a ring box from the top drawer Harry hadn’t known what to do. There they were, sitting in a room that stank of sickness – both exhausted and miserable – but hopelessly in love.

Harry cleaned the room and changed the sheets while Liam showered, thinking to himself about what accepting the proposal would mean. It would mean that he could be with Liam for the rest of his life. When he came back in the room he’d told him that he accepted and they’d both been so happy. Curled in each other’s arms, the sickness behind them and a promise in their future was one of the happiest moments in Harry’s life.

As he remembered it, he felt it – months later – the swell of pride that grew in his heart that a man as beautiful and gentle as Liam wanted him to be his husband. He’d never thought he’d be that lucky.

It had become a running joke that Harry would be an Army wife, trading recipes and gossip and looking after the children, like the other wives while their husbands where away on duty but in reality harry felt very, very alone. The wives wanted him to be their token gay friend – a prized addition to the collection – and although they’d mentioned it in passing, he and Liam hadn’t made any plans for children yet.

None of the loneliness seemed as heavy however, now that he knew his man was coming home.

A week passed, at a pace that was so painfully slow that Harry grew frustrated at everything. His family tried to distract him, his mother and sister even staying over for a couple of days, but it hadn’t helped and they’d left him alone again to dwell in his self-pity.

It was excruciating, knowing that Liam was so close, almost in reach but not having him beside him already. The whole feeling that Liam’s face had left him had disappeared quickly and he started to feel broken again.

A large part of him despised himself for needing another human being as much as he needed Liam. Without realising it, when he had accepted Liam’s proposal he’d given the other man everything; his heart and soul, his body and mind and he wanted them back. He wished he could be his own person again but he felt that without Liam’s strength to support him he wouldn’t be able to rebuild himself into a person that didn’t need that love and affection.

Yet another week passed and Harry stared at the calendar wistfully. He knew it was a cliché but something about seeing the huge red circle around the end of the month seemed to settle him a little. It told him that time was passing, even though he felt like everything was at a standstill.

Each night he would turn on the television only to give up and switch it off. The news always reported sickening images of troops being infiltrated and attacked and the families of loved ones as they cried for their lost sons, brothers and lovers. His heart would sink with each new death and then he would remember that his Liam was somewhere else, out of danger and on his way home.

At night he would lie in their bed, all too conscious of the cold side try to get some sleep but the emptiness would consume him and he would clutch Liam’s pillow to his chest and pray. More than once the idea of packing his things and running away, leaving only his ring and an apologetic note had crossed his mind but the thought of truly being alone frightened him more than the empty bed.

He knew in his heart that he would rather see Liam’s bright eyes and heart-melting smile for fifteen minutes on a computer screen every couple of months than never see him again.

The three week mark passed and his excitement started to build. With only a week till his fiancé’s return, Harry had tried his best to be patient. He received a letter, telling him that the men were due to fly in that Friday and his heart was set soaring once more.

Liam was coming home.

He rang Karen immediately and told her the good news. They cried and laughed and cried some more and then he called his mother a repeated the cycle. After some reassuring words from Anne, he hung up and he knew that she was probably dialling Karen’s number so that they could cry together. Walking through the house didn’t seem as daunting now, and he felt a bit lighter.

Liam was coming home.

The days ticked by, painfully slow as always and finally Friday morning arrived. The sun through Harry’s curtains seemed brighter and as he got ready to go to the airport he sang to himself, something he never did while Liam was away. His heart was set to explode with excitement.

His hands twitch in anticipation and he realised that he couldn’t wait to run them along Liam’s jaw, to feel the curve in his spine, to touch the wrinkles around his eyes.

Liam was coming home.

But then the phone rang.

 

The flight had been rescheduled due to turmoil in the city and nobody would or could tell Harry anything. They wouldn’t even tell him whether they’d left yet, or when he should expect them.

The emptiness was back and Harry felt as if he’d been abandoned. He knew that it wasn’t Liam’s fault, and in the past a change in flights would have made him determined to and he would have made calls all day but he felt deflated, like a balloon that has been left for weeks. All he wanted was to be wrapped in strong arms and held while he slept.

With a moan, Harry collapsed on their bed and shuffled his way under the covers. For the first time in weeks it didn’t take him very long to fall asleep and as he curled up he imagined Liam’s familiar weight on the other side of the bed, the heat that emanated from his skin as he slowly stroked his back, and the sound of his breath as he drifted to sleep.

Some hours later, he heard knocking on the door and a woman calling to him but he ignored it, letting his loneliness swallow him again and pull him back to sleep. The phone rang as well but it all seemed like a distant memory to Harry as he blocked it all out.

A light flicked on and Harry groaned and rolled over, before slow realisation sunk over him. Pulling the pillow off of his face he sat up and looked to the doorway where someone was standing. Still dressed in his uniform, Liam stood in the doorway with an amused expression on his face.

‘Isn’t it a bit early to be in bed Haz?’ He laughed, before taking off his jacket and crawling onto the bed until his faces was merely inches from Harry’s. Tears were welling in his eyes and he reached up and placed his hand on Harry’s cheek, whispering ‘I fucking missed you Harry.’

‘Liam, you’re home.’ Harry managed to mumble as hungry lips attacked his own.


End file.
